Why?
by fionarabb
Summary: We get some unexpected answers for some difficult questions.
1. Mac

Why?  
  
By Fiona Rabb  
  
Standard Disclaimers: Jag and the characters from Jag are not mine, never will be, not making any money off of 'em.  
  
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~this is my first fan fiction. Please feel free to review, I can take flames as long as they are constructive flaming! :) Seriously, I want to know the good and the bad. How can I get better if no one lets me know where I am weak. Thanks!~  
  
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It is night. I hate the night, I hate the darkness. Night is when I have nothing left to distract me and I am left alone to wonder 'Why?' Six servicemen and three servicewomen under my command went into that town on a mission, and only two came back.  
  
Sgt. Robert Freeman, Lt. Ben Larson, Lt. Terrance Mann, Ensign Lance Elliot, Pvt. James Kern, Pvt. Donna Lyman, and Lt. Julie Ballinger. Those names never leave my head, especially at night. Five brave men and two courageous women dead. Killed in action while under my command, and yet I lived. 'WHY?'  
  
It was supposed to have been a non-combative mission: surveillance, information gathering, nothing more than that. We set up our equipment, listen in, record conversations, and sift through it all to find the important bit of information and report it. I was in command because of my language skills, along with the fact that I have worked with Webb on missions before. It was suppose to be in and out in three days, three days.  
  
Instead, they had known we were coming, we hadn't even finished unpacking our equipment, let alone set it up, when the door flew open. Many armed men stormed the house we were to use as a headquarters. We defended ourselves as best as we could, but it wasn't enough. I watched Ensign Elliot's eyes as they put a bullet into his heart. I saw the fear, the pain, and the acceptance of death in his green eyes. I still see his eyes in my dreams.  
  
'WHY?' Why did this happen, how did they know, who told them? Questions I still don't have answers too, I don't think I ever will.  
  
They tied our hands behind our backs, both at the wrist and at the elbow. It was so tight I was afraid I was going to dislocate my shoulder if I breathed in too deeply. The pain of it burned hotly, and then slowly drained away as numbness replaced it. They bound our feet as well, before forcing blindfolds on us. I never saw another thing after that moment for the next four weeks.  
  
The blackness was....there are no words to describe the blackness you see when you know those around you are being tortured and injured, but you don't know who is doing it and you don't know which of your people is receiving it. That was the worst part of it all. Not knowing who was there, hearing the screams, the agony carried by the cries, the sobs, the pleading for it to stop, the begging for mercy, but there was none to be found. No, no mercy to be found for the seven soldiers who died in that building. 'Why, why was I spared, why did I live?'  
  
It wasn't bad when they chose me as their victim of the day. It gave me some control over the situation. I knew if they were torturing me, then the others were being left alone. They quickly realized that I was determined not to be broken, and made it their goal to do just that. I had hoped they would take the challenge. The more time they spent with me the less time they would have for the others. I am not a stranger to pain, hell I spent my childhood learning how to distance myself from physical reactions. It came in very handy during those four weeks. When the beatings began to become unbearable, I would leave. I would shut down the part of my brain that was aware of reality, and go to a place where it wasn't dark. More often than not I would end up with Harm. Sometimes Bud and Harriet were there with baby AJ, sometimes we were in the court room, other times it was just Harm and I watching a movie or having dinner. After a while I would 'check' on myself, to see if they were still hurting me. If they were I would stay were I was with Harm, but if they had stopped, then I had to come back to reality. No matter how much it hurt afterwards I always forced myself to come back, I owed it to those with me to try and remember what went on in that building. I can tell you exactly when Pvt. Lyman died. They were beating her on the second day of the third week, she called out, screamed at them "Please I know nothing I am of no use to you!" One of our captors replied "If you say so." and shot her. I heard the shot and the thump as her body hit the ground, I often hear that sound when I see Ensign Elliot's eyes in my dreams. It is the sound of death, it is only right that it should come to me with the look of death as well. They were the only two who died before they day of the Rescue.  
  
That day was different from the start. They woke us all up and gathered us, placing us side by side. This was the first time any of us had been allowed to touch another human in four weeks and one day. I don't care what anyone says, knowing the exact time all the time is not always a blessing. They told us to sit up straight. You could tell they were worried, they were rushing around, sounded nervous. They told us that while they had enjoyed our entertainment, they had to say goodbye, then the shooting started. I felt the bullets enter my body, one in my arm, one in my chest on the right side near my shoulder. I fell backwards and hit my head on the floor. Then next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital in Germany.  
  
I was told by the doctors that the SEAL's had stormed the building just minutes after our captors had shot us. When they got there only four of us were still alive; Lt. Cmdr. Emily Hillsdale, Pvt. Nick Wilson, Lt. Ben Larson, and myself. Lt. Larson died in transport. So now as I lay here in a soft hospital bed in Germany I wonder, 'Why did I live while the others died?'  
  
'Why?' I have not cried, I haven't let myself, there is too much to cry about. I know if I start I won't be able to stop, and there have been so many people around in and out of my room. The debriefings, checking wounds, taking readings, so many people in and out of my room, all looking at me. But it is night and everyone is in the darkness now, not just me. 'Why? I should not be here, but I am. Why? I don't understand, I am no better than those who died, so why am I alive and they are dead!'  
  
A single tear escapes from my eye, followed by another and another and another, until I am sobbing into the darkness. The darkness who was formerly my enemy, and is now my ally. I hide in the darkness, I hide my shame, my guilt, and my fear.  
  
A slash of light appears from the doorway as it is opened. I don't want anyone to see me like this, but I can't stop the tears or the sobs that are ripped from my throat. I cover my face, still trying to hide. I hear footsteps rush over to the bed, and the mattress shift as someone sits down on it next to me.  
  
"Mac? Sarah, it's me, Harm." I hear his voice, I can't believe he is here. But I can't face him right now, I can't face anyone right now. I feel arms go around me as he pulls me into his lap. He shifts around to lean against the head of the bed and rocks me gently. He doesn't say anything, just holds me as I sob. Suddenly I know 'why'. I know why I am still alive; it is the love of this man. If I had died it would have killed two people, that is why I am alive. I have been given a second chance, we have been given a second chance, and I am not going to blow it this time. A peace settles over me then, and I am able to stop crying and sleep a dreamless sleep, in the arms of the man I love. 


	2. Harm

Standard Disclaimers still apply: Not mine, no money, and no offense meant.  
  
~Thank you too all who reviewed, I am most grateful.~  
  
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It is the middle of the night when my transport plane finally lands. I can't believe Admiral Chegwidden actually ordered me to come to Germany and escort Mac home. He probably knew I would come here no matter what and took pity on my career. Then again, I know that he was just as worried as I was about her. Well maybe not quite as worried, he doesn't love her like I do. 'Why did this have to happen to her?'  
  
Sarah and I may never have gotten romantically involved, but I love her more than anyone and anything else in this world. I would do anything for her, I hope she knows that. I will make sure she knows that, I will make sure she knows a lot of things from now on.  
  
I disembark the transport plane and am directed to a waiting Lieutenant who takes my sea bag from me. We go to a jeep and he turns to me saying "I will take you to your quarters, sir."  
  
"Like hell you will, Lieutenant! Drop me off at the hospital, I will find a way back to my quarters after I have seen Ma- Colonel Mackenzie." This kid looks at me as if to argue and I give him my best 'I DARE you to say one more word' look. He gulps and throws the jeep into gear.  
  
As we drive the memories come flooding back from the last time I was here.  
  
I was the one in the hospital bed then, after my ramp strike. The pain of my body couldn't match the pain in my soul. I had killed my RIO. That thought keep running through my head; I was responsible for the death of a fellow aviator, and friend. 'Why couldn't I have died, why did I live' It could have easily been me dead and my RIO alive in the hospital bed. That would have been right, my RIO wasn't the one who flew the plane into the deck, I was. Then came the news that I had night blindness, as much as that hurt, some how I felt that I deserved it. It was my punishment, my penance if you will, for killing a friend. 'Why?' That was what I kept asking myself at the time.  
  
I sigh, shaking my head to clear out the memories, as the hospital comes into view. The gray white building with its dark tinted windows is lit up, I guess to make it look more inviting; I find it only makes it look more sterile and cold. Mac is in that building. I will finally be able to see her, to touch her, to let myself truly believe she is alive and okay. I feel my adrenaline start to kick in, giving me an energy that 18 hours of travel has taken from me. I take a deep breath, set my shoulders and prepare to look as positive and confident as I can. I have to be there for Mac, and if she senses I am worried she will worry about me.  
  
The jeep comes to a stop, as I am about to get out, the driver, grabs my arm. "Sir, there are no visiting hours at this time of night. They aren't going to let you in, should I wait for you here?" I laugh at him aloud, I can't help it.  
  
"Obviously you have never tried to talk me out of something I am determined to do. I thank you for the warning, but I assure you they WILL let me see her, and that you do not need to wait for me. That is all, Lieutenant, you are dismissed." I grab my sea bag and start for the front entrance. I hear the Lieutenant mutter under his breath and then put the jeep in gear.  
  
Upon entering the building I approach the front desk where a short blonde Petty Officer sits flipping through a magazine. I stand in front of her for a few seconds waiting for her to look up. When she makes no move to do anything but continue to flip pages, I bark at her in my best DI voice. "Are you here to look pretty or do your duty Petty Officer?"  
  
She jumps three inches off her chair before coming to attention in front of me. "I'm sorry, sir. I was a fault, sir! It won't happen again sir!"  
  
Even though I am annoyed at this delay, I have to fight a smile. The performance I just gave would have made even Mac proud. "At ease Petty Officer, now," I set my cover down on the counter and look her in the eyes, "What room is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie in?"  
  
"One moment, Commander." She types something into the computer and frowns, "I am sorry sir, but she is in a Restricted Wing. Only those on the Register List are allowed to have access. Your name please, so that I can verify that you are on that list." She looks up at my expectantly.  
  
"Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. I am the Colonel's partner at JAG HQ." I wait as she again types away at her computer.  
  
"I am sorry, Commander but you don't seem to be on the list. You'll have to come back in the morning and go through Security, for a check."  
  
"The hell I will!" I force myself to stop and take a cleansing breath. "Petty Officer, I am Colonel Mackenzie's partner, I have been ordered by the Judge Advocate General HIMSELF to come here and escort the Colonel back to Washington D.C."  
  
"Be that as it may, Commander, you are not on the list, so you are not going to get in to see her tonight. With all due respect, sir, you were the one who just brought up the fact that I am here to do my duty, and that is what I am doing. No one gets into the Restricted Wing, without clearance."  
  
"It's okay Petty Officer, he's clear." A loud voice barked behind me. I turn and come face to face with the person responsible for Mac being here in the first place.  
  
"Webb."  
  
"I'm sorry sir, but on whose authority is the Commander cleared?" The Petty Officer looked at Webb with suspicion.  
  
"On mine!" Webb got out his ID and handed it to the leery PO. "Clayton Webb, CIA. I am in charge of maintaining the list into the East Restricted Wing, where Colonel Mackenzie is being treated." Turning to me he tells me, "If I had known you were coming tonight I would have made sure your name was on the list."  
  
"Well isn't that nice of you." I say sarcastically through clenched teeth. I try to force my hands to unclench from the fists they went to, when I first heard Webb's voice behind me.  
  
Webb eyes me warily; he can see the struggle I am having not to beat him to a bloody pulp right now. "Look, Rabb, I know you are angry--"  
  
I can't stop myself. I grab Webb by his pristinely pressed shirt front and slam him up against the wall. "Angry?" I ask him quietly, "Angry? You have no idea what I am feeling right now, Webb. You are why Mac is in this hospital in the first place, YOU! I know that Mac could have declined the mission, but you knew she wouldn't. What the hell happened Clay, how did this happen?!" My voice has been steadily increasing in volume and by the time I end I am shouting at Webb, not two inches in front of his face. To his credit, the man never flinched.  
  
"Rabb, this is not the place to discuss this matter. If you will follow me please, we can talk about this on the way up to see the Colonel. I am assuming that is why you are here, right?"  
  
"You know it is you son-of-a..." Again I force myself to stop and take a cleansing breath. "Look Webb, I will talk with you about just what went wrong with Mac's mission tomorrow. Tonight I just want to see my best friend. Please, take me to see Sarah."  
  
"Fine, but before you see her we need to discuss something about Mac." Clay hesitated unsure of how to say what he had to convey to Harm.  
  
"What is it, Clay, what is wrong. Is something wrong with Mac?" My face clearly conveys the fear and concern that I feel.  
  
"Well in a manner of speaking, yes. Harm, Mac has just gone through the most horrifying ordeal of her life. But she won't talk to anyone, just tells everyone she is fine. When you see her, you will see the bandages from the bullet wounds, the normal array of tubes and wires to monitor her condition."  
  
"Clay, I knew all that, what aren't you telling me?"  
  
"Harm she may not be quite the same woman that you know has your best friend. Psychologically she has gone through hell and she may not have come all the way back yet. Just don't pressure her to talk about anything yet, she will tell you when she is ready. She may try to withdraw from those around her, which is normal in these cases. Let her have space but don't let her be alone. Make sure she knows you are there for her to lean on and talk to, but also let her know that it is on her time table not yours."  
  
While Webb had told him all this they had stopped and now stood in the hallway, near an unmarked door.  
  
I sigh and run my hand through my hair, "Okay, I think I can do that. Is that her room?" I ask and gesture towards the door.  
  
"Yes, and Harm, I truly am sorry."  
  
"I know."  
  
With some trepidation I stand in front of the door my hand on the door knob. I mentally steel myself against the sight I am about to see, I have never been good at seeing Mac in a hospital. I take one last deep breath and slowly open the door a crack.  
  
The first thing that registers is not how she looks, it is the sound of her crying. Not crying, sobbing. The pain I hear in those sobs breaks my heart into a million pieces. Again I wonder 'WHY MAC?' She deserves to be happy, to be safe. What was it she said; she deserves a couple of kids, a good man, and lots of comfortable shoes. I rush over to her bed and sit down on the edge. I desperately want to gather in my arms and hold her, but I hold back because she has her hands over her face and is trying to hide from me. My throat closes as I feel the threat of tears as the grief and frustration comes to the surface. This is not supposed to happen; Mac is not supposed to hurt. Dammit, she has had enough pain in her life, why does she have to go through this! I swallow and open my mouth, I have no idea what to say to make this better. Oh wait, I can't make this better for her, I can only be here to try and help make it easier.  
  
"Mac? Sarah, it's me, Harm." She doesn't move, if anything she holds her hands over her face tighter. I can't take it anymore. I put my arms around her and lift her into my lap, in the same motion I pivot so that I can lean against the head board. There is nothing I can say to make her better, so I say nothing at all and just cradle her while she sobs. I rock her gently, willing her to know I love her, and that I am here, always. I am not surprised when I realize that my cheeks are wet. I don't know when I started crying, but I really don't care. All I care about I am holding in my arms. I look down at Sarah, my Marine, as she slowly stops crying. I gaze at her beautiful face as her hands finally drop, sleep overtaking her. Even with bruises she is stunning. She is asleep; she looks so peaceful in sleep. I know that it is only temporary, that my Sarah has a lot to go through in the coming weeks and months. I also know that I will be there with her, no matter what.  
  
Suddenly a thought pops into my head, this is 'Why'. This is why all those years ago I was the one to survive the ramp strike. My night blindness wasn't a punishment, it was a gift. Without it I never would have gone to law school and become a JAG. I never would have met Sarah Catherine Mackenzie. I never would have understood how love could be. I smile in the dark, settle Mac against my chest, and close my eyes to sleep. She is why. 


	3. Webb

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Hello and thank you for reading  
  
for the Standards Disclaimers please see chapter one now  
  
to continue reading this story please wait for the beep.......BEEP.  
  
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Damn, my head hurts. I massage the bridge of my nose, trying in vain, to relieve some of the pressure. 'Why did this happen?" Seven people are dead, and three more now have to live with the memories of a hell I am responsible for getting them into.  
  
In all my years in the CIA countless missions have hit snags and gone wrong under my command. That is the nature of this business, but never has it been like this. Before now the people who have died or gotten hurt were just resources to me. They were willing participants who knew what they were getting into and chose to be involved. This time is different though. I can try and tell my conscious that nine out of ten of them were willing participants, merely lost resources, but it is the tenth that hurts so much. Suddenly my head is flooded by memories of a mission that I have tried my damnedest to shut out. This is not the first time that someone was more than a resource, I have not thought of her since just after she died.  
  
The pain that I thought I had silenced forever, has been resurrected by this current situation. The memories of a mission that ended over seven years ago have crept back into my mind. Memories that seem to almost belong to someone else, take place in someone else's lifetime, not mine. Those memories make what I am now going through, even harder. Like Mac's mission, Lou's mission went terribly wrong right at the beginning, and many good agents paid the price. 'Why is this happening' I asked myself that hundreds of times, and still have no answer. No answer for what happened then or now. I had convinced Lou that the assignment would be a cake walk, just a little intel, then the rest of the week was hers to do with what she wanted. I also told her that I hoped that she would want to spend the rest of the week with me. I had coerced her into taking on a mission she had not truly wanted to be a part of, just like I had done to Mac.  
  
I knew when I walked into JAG HQ's six weeks ago that Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie would agree to this mission. Even though I knew she didn't like working for me and had sworn never to do so again. I knew she would agree. All I had to do was appeal to her sense of duty and honor, telling her how much her country needed her. I was right, she agreed, all the while sending me looks that could kill a lesser man than I. I snort at that thought, the way I feel right now, I don't think there are lesser men than me. I have bullied and manipulated an incredible woman into what turned out to be hell.  
  
Granted it was only suppose to be a three day information gathering mission, but I am still responsible for putting her in this position. I glance at the door in front of me. I have talked with her several times today. Well I should say that I have talked TO her, she hasn't said very much to me. Beyond what was needed to debrief me, she hasn't said much of anything to anybody. When asked how she feels all she responds with is 'I'm fine.' That is a load of crap and everyone who knows her can see it. I can understand her not wanting to talk to me, I wouldn't want to talk to me either. It is late, she is probably asleep. I put my hand on the door, change my mind, and let it drop to my side. I can't see her like this, bruised battered, shattered.  
  
'Why and how?'  
  
I asked that seven years ago when I had been informed by my boss, Thomas Anderson, that five agents, including Lou, had had their covers blown and had been assassinated. No one could answer my questions. I was just another field agent then, I had no avenues of recourse to look into the matter myself. I had been force to accept that these things just happen, and it is tragic but unavoidable. It was eventually determined that a leak was present somewhere within the Company Agents stationed in the Middle Eastern Sector, but the leak had never been identified. Despite all that I knew that it was my fault she was dead. This was all in the past, I shouldn't dwell on the past. Unfortunately the present wasn't looking much better.  
  
The Company is desperately looking into this to find out where the current leak is, but so far has come up with very little useful information. What they have come up with I certainly can't use when I speak to the families of those brave young men and women who died while on this mission. It is frustrating to have to answer all of their questions with the standard Company response: "I can't answer that question at this time, but I want to assure you that we are looking into this incident and will have something to tell you soon." Damn, WHY did this happen.  
  
I walk back to the security checkpoint, which has become my temporary office of sorts. I pick up the latest update on the investigation into the cause, nothing promising. I skim over the names of the agents working in the area that knew of the operation that Mac was in charge of: Pickerell, Nance, Williams, Overbrook, Anderson, Grayson, and Langley. I have read the same three sentences five times before I put it down, I need to focus. I glance at the monitors checking to make sure everything is normal. My eyes flick across the images, and I suddenly freeze on one. There in the lobby is the one man I have dreaded talking to the most, while at the same time have been eager for his arrival. I know that Mac needs to see him, if anyone can help her it is him. I look down at the table where the Register List lies open. Crap! I haven't thought to put Harm on it yet. I grab my suit jacket containing my ID and head for the front lobby.  
  
As I round the corner, I hear the Petty officer on duty tell him that no one gets into the restricted wing if not on the list. Well at least someone is doing their duty correctly, I mutter to myself.  
  
"It's okay Petty Officer, he's clear." I say in a strong steady voice. I am amazed at how calm I sound, considering how I feel. I look at Harm as his hands ball into fists and he hisses my name from behind clenched teeth. Oh, Lord. He is pissed.  
  
I barley hear the PO ask on whose authority, and a little of my nervousness come out in the form of snapping at her.  
  
"On mine!" I get out my ID and hand it to the leery PO, my gaze never leaving Harm's face. "Clayton Webb, CIA. I am in charge of maintaining the list into the East Restricted Wing, where Colonel Mackenzie is being treated." I stare at Rabb hoping he is not going to kill me and tell him snidely, "If I had known you were coming tonight I would have made sure your name was on the list."  
  
I know it is a smart-ass thing to say but I can't stop the words as they leave my mouth. The Admiral once told me that Harm and Mac are the closest thing I had to friends, and I am pretty sure that right now it is no longer true.  
  
"Well isn't that nice of you." Rabb's jaw is still clenched and I know that he is struggling hard not to assault me here in the lobby. I decide the best tactic is to get him moving towards Mac. I open my mouth the try and find a way to start to let him know how responsible I feel and to tell him that I will take him to her now.  
  
"Look, Rabb, I know you are angry--" That is all the farther I get before Rabb has me pinned against the wall his face mere inches from mine. I try not to show any emotion, I know I deserve this and more. Harm's voice continues to rise as he gets a small amount of his frustration out on me. I stare at him, knowing what is going on inside of his head. I can imagine how he must be feeling. His best friend has just gone through hell and he has the person responsible for that pinned against the wall. Hell, if I were him I would kill me. Harm ends his short tirade asking me what I have been asking myself for the last four weeks.  
  
"What the hell happened Clay, how did this happen?!"  
  
I can't answer that question, so I divert his attention, back to where it truly needs to be right now, back to Sarah. "Rabb, this is not the place to discuss this matter. If you will follow me please, we can talk about this on the way up to see the Colonel. I am assuming that is why you are here, right?"  
  
I know that I am picking a fight with him, but part of me wants him to beat me to a bloody pulp. I am the reason he has come to take his broken and scarred partner home, he would be justified. I see Rabb take a deep breathe and am amazed at his self control. I didn't think he had it in him. I guess he realizes that Mac is the more important priority. His next words confirm my thoughts, and as he asks me to take him to his best friend I feel my throat tighten.  
  
I think back to how I felt when I was told Lou was dead. If I could have had someone other than myself to blame, I would have reacted the same as Harm had. Well maybe not quite the same, I don't know if I would have stopped when he did. Even now I feel a surge of anger and blood lust when I think of whoever leaked Lou's identity to the enemy. Even now I would kill them without at second thought. That night I lost the best part of me, when Lou died I died with her. I lost my best friend because of the CIA, and now I have almost caused Harm to loose his as well. I need to warn Harm about the condition Mac is in. I know this isn't going to be easy.  
  
As I try my best to explain how Mac has been reacting I lead Harm through the empty halls of the hospital, until we stand in front of her door. I watch as the fearless Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. stands outside a door looking frightened. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.  
  
"Is that her room?" Harm asked and gestured toward the door.  
  
I feel as if I should say something, tell him that he is right to hate me, that I know the pain of having the best thing is your life taken from you. Tell him he is lucky, he got Mac back.  
  
"Yes, and Harm, I truly am sorry." That is all I can say.  
  
"I know." The look he gives me before squaring his shoulders and focusing on the door, tells me that he really does know, and that I may not have lost the closest thing to a friend I have.  
  
He opens the door and I hear the faint sound of someone sobbing, and what is left of my heart dies. The door latches behind Harm and I am spared from listening to any more of Mac's anguish.  
  
WHY is this happening? I still have no answers.  
  
TBC*  
  
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Random thought from the author: This has nothing to do with my story, but I watched the season finale and need to comment. Now I am a STAUNCH Harm/Mac supporter, I believe they belong together, BUT this last episode makes it really hard for me to be very against the Webb alternative. I mean the guy was really sweet, and I have this tendency to root for the underdog but gosh darn it, Harm has got to get his act together!!! *sigh* ok now I am off my soap box now....ABOUT my story....do you guys like this chapter, and do you think I should continue? As always I discourage flames but welcome constructive criticism. Please tell me what you think, about the story, my writing style, or my random comment about Webb. Enjoy your day! ~Fiona 


	4. Going Home

********** Thank you to all who reviewed, due to a small bought of stupidity, I managed to clear all my original reviews....not to mention my story. The story was easy enough to restore, the reviews on the other hand, well let us just pause and have a moment of silence for those reviews lost forever due to my brain fart. (pause) Thank you. One last thing, thank you, thank you, thank you, Browneyeez, you have been really great! Now on with the show. ****************  
  
Mac's POV:  
  
I am going home. It wasn't too long ago that I didn't think I would ever be able to say those words again.  
  
It has been one whole week since the night that Harm came into my room and held me. Only one week, and yet if feels like a lifetime of experiences have taken place in that time. I have been forced to see a therapist that specializes in POW's. I have seen her every day for seven days. She has told me what to expect when I go home. I should not expect to feel like I fit where I use to fit. It is normal to want to pull away from friends, to retreat into myself. She has said that that is okay to do up to a point, and I need to be very careful I do not pull too far away. It may feel like people are looking at me differently, that they are staring at me, she says this will be mostly in my head. When I first come back people are going to look at me, but in the weeks and months to follow they will only see me as normal again. It will be only me that feels otherwise. She says, she says, she says....she says a lot of things. In all that she says, she has never said the one thing I need to hear. She cannot say that I am not responsible for losing those under my command. A commander is always responsible; she cannot tell me how to live with that responsibility. That is something I will have to deal with everyday for the rest of my life.  
  
I am jolted out of my melancholy thoughts by the sound of the door opening. I look up to see Harm enter my room, his flyboy smile lighting his way.  
  
"Hey, you ready to get out of here?" He stands in front of me smiling, waiting for an answer.  
  
I am not sure how to answer him. Part of me longs for the familiar places and people of home, but the other part... The other part is scared to hell of facing those beloved people, of having to make small talk, of answering their questions, of telling them I am fine.  
  
I guess my emotions have been evident on my face, or maybe he just knows me too well, either way Harm's face softens into a gentle look of concern. He steps closer to me and engulfs me in a tender hug.  
  
"Hey, Ninja-girl. This isn't going to be easy, but it will be okay. I am going to be right by your side, whatever comes. I am not going anywhere, okay?"  
  
I had wrapped my arms around his waist when he hugged me, and now I tightened my grip fractionally. I nodded against his chest, and take a deep breath. Time to suck it up Marine, I tell myself. I am going to give the Corps a bad name relying on a Squid so much. I smile, oh well, I guess the Corps will just have to live with it. I pull back from Harm's embrace, pick up my coat, and together we walk out the door.  
  
***************** *****************  
  
Harm's POV  
  
As we make our way to the Hospital Lobby, I keep my arm around Sarah's shoulders, being careful not to put pressure on her either of her wounds. Her chest wound near her right shoulder is still very tender, while the wound to her right arm is healing faster than the doctors had expected. The rest of her body is healing as well. The bruises that were angry red, blues, purples and black when I arrived have slowly faded to lighter shades of blues, green, and yellow. The cuts and burns that had been inflicted upon her are also healing over and much less noticeable than when I arrived.  
  
I keep my arm around her for several reasons. First, I know she needs the added support and encouragement. It is scary for her, after a month of hell, and only one week of recovery, to be expected to go back to life the way it use to be. Secondly, I am selfish. I want to feel her close to me. I want to know that I can protect her, I want to protect her. I want to make sure that nothing will ever cause Sarah Mackenzie pain again.  
  
I am relieved that we are going home. I think that it will do Mac good to be in her own apartment, to sleep in her own bed. She needs to remember the good and normal things of life. Although we haven't specifically talked about it, we both know that our relationship has changed. I don't think we need to talk about it. As I look over the past I feel that maybe some of the problem was that we talked too much about it. We have now just accepted it and are treasuring it for the gift it is. I know she loves me, and she knows I love her. There is where is begins and ends. It isn't complicated, it is love.  
  
I sigh and mile at that thought, as I hold the door open for her. I glance down at her as she steps out in to the sunlight. Mac closes her eyes for a moment and breaths in the fresh warm air. I smile at her, I can't help it, she is the most beautiful thing I will ever see.  
  
I know that in the weeks and months ahead of us there will be much pain and confusion, we will deal with that when it comes. We will take each day one hour at a time, and go from there. This hour of this day consists of taking the first step into the future, together.  
  
************  
  
ATTN: (note from Fiona) sorry so short, I will post more in the next day or two I promise. Oh and Webb will get his answers as well. Thanks for reading, please take a moment to review. (the button is just down in the left hand corner of your screen, that is right you see it, now go click on it.) ;) 


	5. The End

About this story...it was never suppose to be more than two chapters, Mac's POV and Harm's POV. I let myself be 'talked' into doing more by well meaning people. Unfortunately I was wrong to let that happen. Consequently, the chapters following the first two are, in my opinion, weak and not in the same league as the first two. I apologize to you all for not trusting myself. While I know that as a reader, you always would like to see more of a story you enjoy, sometimes it is better just to be happy with what is there. Such is the case here. I like where the fourth chapter left off, that is the end. Harm and Mac head back to D.C. together. So thanks for all your support and reviews, but that's all folks!!! :) This is  
  
THE END.  
  
~fiona 


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